[White fade in. Establishing shot: panning from the sky to a busy road. It is a sunny day in a nondescript neighbourhood, Seoul. The hot air makes everything look moist.
There is one singular yellow vehicle in a sea of black, blue, white, and red. Close-up: Doc Martens stepping out of a taxi, loud squeak of shoes on pavement. Handheld camera.
Cut to: an older South Korean man with gray hair and kind eyes. He steps around to meet the person wearing Doc Martens.]
TAXI DRIVER [in Korean]: Are you in a hurry? I can help with your suitcases, if you'd like?
VIVIAN [in English]: Sorry, I can't speak Korean. What was that?
TAXI DRIVER: Do you need assistance with your belongings?
VIVIAN: Actually, yeah, I do. Here, let me grab your money so I don't forget.
[Full shot of Vivian—an 18 year old Polish-Jewish woman in an oversized hoodie, baggy jeans, and messy black hair—as she fumbles through her wallet. The dollar bills she presents are wrinkled, the coins smudged at the corners. She bows her head apologetically.
Cut to: medium long shot. Backside of Taxi Driver and Vivian's bodies manoeuvring through the crowd on the sidewalk. Sunlight reflects off of lens, giving off a hazy, dream-like effect.
The low-rise complex comes into view as the lens flare dissipates. Multiple garbage bags line the entrance. Some bricks are exposed from where the concrete is separated. Two windows are boarded up.
Slow zoom into Vivian's frowning face as she turns around to face Taxi Driver.]
VIVIAN: I don't want a roommate.
TAXI DRIVER [wiping sweat from his forehead]: Pardon?
VIVIAN [turning back to the building]: I have a roommate. I've been dreading coming to this city, this country, this continent, because of a roommate.
TAXI DRIVER: I had a roommate in college. He wasn't so bad.
VIVIAN: Okay. But this is different.
TAXI DRIVER: How?
VIVIAN [grumbling]: I can't tell you.
[Flash cut to: a contract on a wooden table. Vivian's signature lazily scrawled into a rectangular box. Muffled voice, feminine—
Returns to present moment. Uncomfortable choker shot of Vivian's pensive expression. She chews her lips and gazes up at the building.]
TAXI DRIVER (O.S): Goodbye now. I wish you good luck.
[Taxi Driver exits the scene. Camera gradually moves into a high angle shot: Vivian stands alone on the sidewalk, but not really alone. She is surrounded by three oversized suitcases, along with a purse hugged close to her torso. A dozen extras glide seamlessly between her and the rest of the world.]
NOTE: Dramatize the proportions. She should look as small as possible without the use of CGI.
[Vivian hauls her luggage and walks towards the entrance, pushing through the crowd of civilians.]
2. INT. APARTMENT LOBBY – CONTINUOUS
[Establishing shot: handheld camera follows Vivian to the front desk, fumbling along with her suitcases. The chair behind the desk is empty, save for a red jacket hanging off the left arm.
Upon further inspection, the lobby is unkempt: full of books, posters, chairs, and yellowed wallpaper. Moderately dusty, too. Vivian abandons her things beside the desk.]
VIVIAN: Hello? I'm trying to find my new place. Is anyone here? Hello?
[Nobody responds. She walks further into the lobby. The hallway grows shadowy, almost comically so. Vivian acknowledges this fact and scoffs incredulously to herself.]
VIVIAN [whispering]: This is so fucking weird.
[Cut to: pristine oak wood door at the end of the hallway. It's clearly out of place.
Multicoloured lights pool from beneath the door. They seem to be emanating from a singular place, like a television screen.
Vivian inches closer on her tip-toes. She strains her ears in hopes of detecting what's going on inside. A group of men are chattering, but she does not understand what they are saying.]
MAN 1 (O.S): Shit, she's gorgeous. I want her all to myself.
MAN 2 (O.S): My wife gets so angry when I say the same thing.
MAN 1 (O.S): Who do you think she'll take as a future husband? Some A-list celeb?
MAN 3 (O.S): Me, I hope.
MAN 2 (O.S): You have no chance.
MAN 3 (O.S): Neither do you!
[Vivian places her hands on the door for more leverage, but she places too much pressure. A bead of sweat rolls down her cheek at the same time.
Beat. The door creaks wide open.]
NOTE: The camera must move with her breathing. Get really personal, as personal as possible. We should feel her subconscious desperation for more; more knowledge, more clarity, more power over her surroundings. Any additional sensation to get through the day. She is utterly alone. Maybe that is the way life is, always has been, because she has always been alone. Just that bit more isolated. She feels it every day of her life. The isolation is suffocating. She serves nobody. That is the underlying problem, is it not? Maybe that is why she is here, why she wrote her name on that dotted line. Searching for a sensation.
[Expecting to be yelled at for intruding, she winces. Yet no voices reprimand her. She straightens and opens her eyes. Close-up: Vivian's eyes enlarge. A burst of colour reflects in her irises.
Rapid sequence of disjointed shots: Vivian's quivering lips, blurry television out of frame, hand on doorknob, beer bottle on floor up ahead.]
NOTE: Should be unclear whether this is current or already happened.
[Cut to: slow zoom shot of the television after brief panic. A girl dances onscreen. Her puffy pink dress swishes each time she jumps. It hugs her lithe frame perfectly. Her blonde hair bounces to each note. Vivian becomes completely enthralled, exactly like the men in the room. They fail to comprehend Vivian's intrusion.]
████: Don't you forget it, I'm your Angel! Come see me soon! I love you! Bye bye!
[All of the men cheer.]
VIVIAN: Huh.
[Something is amiss. Vivian squints.
She takes her phone out of her pocket and unlocks it. There, in her text messages with the woman, is a photo of Angel.]
3. INT. PERFORMANCE SET – THAT MOMENT
[Establishing shot: wide shot of Angel as she strikes a cute pose under a spotlight. There is a brief moment of silence before the studio erupts into applause. Spotlight on Angel fades to a soft nothingness.]
DIRECTOR: … And cut! That was exquisite! Angel, you are such a doll! Another successful live performance, as always.
ANGEL: Thank you! I live to please!
DIRECTOR: Oh, you're so sweet.
[Even under all that makeup she blushes. The tips of her ears grow rosy.]
ANGEL: Stop it, oh goodness me, thank you. I'll see you next time?
DIRECTOR: Yes. You'll be seeing me again very soon.
ANGEL: Sounds awesome!
[The director exits the scene. A staff member places a folding chair behind Angel so she can sit down. She hikes up her dress to do just that before a booming voice echoes across the set.
Camera smoothly moves to capture a middle-aged South Korean woman walking with gusto towards Angel. The name tag on her blouse reads Nang Sunhye.]
SUNHYE [clapping her hands]: Utterly gorgeous! Spectacular! Everyone, another round of applause for our Angel!
[Cut to: wide shot of employees surrounding Angel like a great big wave in all directions. Camera spins in a circle to highlight each person. They all look in pain.
It stops as soon as it starts. Sunhye quickly snaps into the air. Applause halts immediately, and employees scatter. Angel is unperturbed. She seems extremely happy.]
ANGEL: So… what're you doing here? I thought I didn't have any other schedules today.
SUNHYE: No, you do not. But remember that surprise I was talking to you about? Wrapped in a pretty red bow, just for you?
ANGEL [visibly more excited]: Oh! Yes! Please tell me you're surprising me today, oh will you? I've been on my best behaviour, haven't I?
[Sunhye nods and holds out her hand. Angel blinks, then laughs and takes it. Sunhye twirls Angel around like a ballerina.]
SUNHYE: Of course, my Angel. Your surprise touched down a few hours ago. It should be back at home. Let us leave right away.
ANGEL: Wait, hang on, my bag is still in the trailer.
[She attempts to make an exit but is stopped with three consecutive taps on her chest.]
SUNHYE: I will have someone drive it over, okay? I do not want you to wait much longer. Your gift is probably getting antsy, too.
ANGEL: Oh, oh goodness me, I guess you're right.
SUNHYE [laughing]: I am always right.
[They begin to walk. Close-up: Sunhye grabbing for Angel's hand. Manicured fingers intertwine. Cut to: their smiles.]
ANGEL: Can we play a game?
SUNHYE: Yes, my Angel. What do you have in mind?
ANGEL: Um, well, I think I want to guess what'll be waiting for me. My gift, I mean.
SUNHYE [sing-song]: Oh, I do not know…
ANGEL [leaning her head on Sunhye's shoulder]: Pretty please? With a cherry on top?
SUNHYE: You are such a curious girl. I would love to indulge you, but gifts are meant to be special, are they not? Telling you would ruin the surprise altogether.
ANGEL [pouting]: Well, you wouldn't be telling me, exactly. I'd be using my judgement.
SUNHYE: Hush your pretty mouth.
[Silence falls over the two of them. Sunhye begins to pet Angel's hair with her free hand, which makes her relaxed. She is comfortable in this scene.]
ANGEL: You really can't say?
SUNHYE [clipped]: No.
ANGEL [sarcastic]: Guess I'll die waiting.
[Wrong answer. Sunhye turns rigid.]
SUNHYE [sighing]: That is all you heard come out of my mouth?
ANGEL: Oh, no, I just—
SUNHYE: Why would I ever pick a gift that was not special? I dedicate my entire life to making sure you are satisfied, and now you think I would falter? We are a great team, and I am excellent at my job. Are you questioning my work ethic?
[Brief shot focused on Angel's face to single-out her startled reaction.]
SUNHYE (CONT'D): You have no faith in me. I never thought this day would arrive.
ANGEL: No, goodness me! I would never think that! I was, um, y'know, wondering—
[Sunhye stops walking. She removes her fingers from Angel's hold and serves a steely look. Cut to: medium long shot. A prop in the background separates their forms.]
SUNHYE: How unfortunately clueless you are. Stop talking. Just see it for yourself.
ANGEL [quiet, dejected]: I understand. I'm sorry.
[Close-up: two pairs of heels tapping on the floor as they start walking again. Match-cut to Sunhye's fingernail tapping her chin.
Clock begins the tick. Sound grows louder as Sunhye suspends all conversation with just an expression. Ticking crescendos until—]
SUNHYE: Hm. I accept your apology. Come along now, I have much on my list today.
4. INT. APARTMENT UNIT – LATER – SAME DAY
[Vivian eventually finds her unit number, courtesy of scrolling through the woman's past e-mails and text messages.
Super wide shot: Vivian begins unpacking her things in the living room. For someone else living in it, the apartment is sure bare. No magnets on the fridge, no pictures on the wall, no personal identifiers. Could be described as sterile. She makes quick work of her luggage, then realizes she does not have her own room.
Suddenly, rustling. Voices in the hall. Vivian stands on alert after the earlier stint.]
DISEMBODIED FEMALE VOICE [in Korean]: Will you behave correctly?
ANOTHER VOICE [replying in Korean]: Yes. I'm sorry.
[Vivian quirks her head, but stays put.]
DISEMBODIED FEMALE VOICE: Good girl. Open the door. Your gift is inside.
[Front door opens. There is the telltale sign of shoes being kicked off. A wall is blocking Vivian's sight of the entrance, so she stands to get a better view.]
VIVIAN: Hello…?
[Cut to: over-the-shoulder shot. two figures standing in the threshold. Angel, practically sparkling in her little pink dress, and the woman, looking about as joyous as a boulder.
Vivian emerges towards the opening. She looks greasy and jet lagged.]
ANGEL: Oh! Another person!
THE WOMAN: That is what it looks like, right? What do you think?
ANGEL: My gifts aren't usually women.
THE WOMAN: I told you it was special.
ANGEL: Thank you, Sunhye-nim!
[Angel presses a chaste kiss to Sunhye's cheek. Her curled hair falls elegantly down her back, looking like the leading star in a romantic comedy.
Vivian feels her breathing getting heavier.
Sunhye rubs Angel's back but does not return any other kind of affection.]
VIVIAN: Uh.
[The women part. Angel is the most reluctant to do so. She smooths the tulle at the edge of her skirt, eyes lingering on Sunhye with excited intensity.]
THE WOMAN [peering at Vivian, in English]: It has been a while. How are you doing?
VIVIAN: Good.
[Sunhye opens her mouth to speak again, but Angel interrupts her.]
ANGEL: Go on, I gotta bond with my roomie!
THE WOMAN, SUNHYE [tight-lipped grin]: Of course. Now, don't mind me, but I need to get going. I'll see you two later.
ANGEL: Bye bye!
[Sunhye turns and exits the scene. Only Vivian and Angel remain. Vivian rubs at her wrists, her shoulders. It grows clearer Angel will not start the conversation.]
VIVIAN: Um. Is Sunhye your manager?
ANGEL [in English]: Something like that!
VIVIAN: Cool.
[Cut to: medium shot of Angel entering the kitchen. Vivian follows without thinking. Angel begins the process of making tea. First, the kettle. Next, water. The process is clumsy like it is her first time doing it.]
VIVIAN (CONT'D) [scratching her head]: My bad. Introductions are not my strong suit.
ANGEL: That's okay! Let me help you! What's your name?
[Angel's earnest voice freaks Vivian out. In Vivian's quick assessment, the border between Angel's celebrity persona and true character weakens exponentially.
Stabilized shot transitions to handheld camera. Vertical tilt starts at Angel's face and rakes down her body.
Cut to: low angle shot of Vivian. Static, but still handheld. Her eyes, which start down at the floor, slowly crawl back up to gaze at the camera.]
NOTE: Angel is constantly performing, even in front of a roommate she is meeting for the first time. Especially now. She wants to be good.
VIVIAN: My name's Vivian. You?
[Angel moves to unzip her dress. She does so with surprising ease and lack of embarrassment. Vivian is close to covering her face before it is revealed Angel is wearing a matching pink leotard underneath.]
ANGEL [winking]: Haven't you seen the performances? I'm your Angel!
[The dress is kicked away into a corner. Kettle starts to whistle. Camera is placed inside the cabinet. Angel fumbles around in it before successfully locating the tea bag she desires: Anxi Tieguanyin tea.]
VIVIAN (CONT'D): Whoever picked your stage name has a talent for that kind of stuff.
ANGEL: Stage name? Oh, don't be silly! My real name is Angel.
VIVIAN: Seriously?
ANGEL: Completely serious! They legally changed it when I signed my contract with the company.
VIVIAN: What? Who's 'they?'
[Cut to: slow zoom shot of Angel putting together her tea as she speaks.]
ANGEL: Sorry, I should've clarified. Y'know Sunhye, right? Yeah, yeah, you do, because you wouldn't be here, and obviously she recognized you— anyway. Sorry! I'm rambling. Basically, my birth name didn't fit me at all! I passed through some smaller companies that really liked my birth name, but then my new home came along. I don't know why, but Sunhye took one long gaze at me, then called me an angel. Isn't that something? She used the nickname so often that other people started using it! But it's like a switch flipped, I'm telling you. I became Angel, and I'll be everybody's Angel forever and ever and ever and ever!
[Camera stays on a full shot of Angel for an uneasy amount of time. Background noises like birds tweeting and traffic outside slowly fade out. Only Vivian's voice remains.]
VIVIAN (O.S): Did you have a choice?
ANGEL: I really like the name!
VIVIAN (O.S): That wasn't my question.
[Camera slowly pans back to the living room, behind Vivian.
Angel glances in that direction.]
ANGEL [softer, like trying to coax an angry cat out of a corner]: To be honest, I'm not sure. I wouldn't have my name any other way, though.
[Close-up: Vivian can barely keep her face neutral. Something has changed. Breeze from an open window breaks the tension.]
ANGEL (CONT'D): Enough about that! Ask me another question.
VIVIAN: Um. Okay. How old are you?
ANGEL: I'm 19!
VIVIAN: Hey, I'm younger than you. For some reason I thought we were the same age. That means—
ANGEL [around a mouthful of tea]: You'll need to call me unnie!
VIVIAN: Right.
[Some of Angel's tea drips past her lips, drawing a clear line on her skin. Vivian watches it with keen interest. The droplet moves with agonizing sluggishness, tracing the curve of Angel's jaw before disappearing into the collar of her leotard. Hypnotizing.
A hand waves in front of Vivian's face. She jumps in a way that suggests coming out of a trance.]
ANGEL: Earth to Vivian? You look like you want to say something to me.
VIVIAN [swallowing]: Right. U–unnie, where's my room?
ANGEL [surprised]: Oh goodness me, I almost forgot! Follow me, it's over this way by a wee bit.
5. INT. VIVIAN'S ROOM – CONTINUOUS
[Establishing shot: white walls, cream carpet. Vivian tugs her bottom lip under her canines, surveying the space with a critical eye. Definitely needs some work.]
VIVIAN: Smaller than my room at home.
ANGEL: Do you— did you live far away?
VIVIAN: I'm currently living in Britain, so, yeah. Or, not any more? I came from Britain.
ANGEL: Oh! Must've been scary flying on your way over. The nerves and stuff, y'know? Not knowing where you'd end up?
[Vivian walks further into the room. The bed, despite being unmade, is exactly what she needs to rest on. She flops down face first before flipping over to face Angel.]
VIVIAN: Yeah, but I got scouted by Sunhye, so it was never gonna be any kind of mystery.
ANGEL: Oh, goodness me. Scouted, you say? That's how you know each other! Which means you received the pamphlet, then? Or the packet, I don't—
VIVIAN: Yup. You were the first face of the company's that I saw, front and centre of all those girls. Impressive.
[Cut to: medium long shot of Angel gesturing wildly in the air like she is casting a spell.]
VIVIAN: Don't be bashful, now.
ANGEL: Do you wanna know the truth?
VIVIAN: Yeah.
[Silence for a beat. Angel hovers back, debating internally. Then, Vivian beckons Angel to bridge the gap between them. Angel sits gracefully on the edge of the bed.]
ANGEL [leaning in, whispering]: Hard work and determination!
VIVIAN: What if someone works as hard as you? Will they reach Angel status?
ANGEL [giggling]: You're funny! Nobody works as hard as me. Sunhye tells me so.
[Close-up: Vivian studying the unwavering confidence in Angel's face.]
VIVIAN: Let me guess, your motto is 'confidence is key.' There's a special kind of arrogance radiating off of you right now.
ANGEL: Do enlighten me!
VIVIAN [grinning]: You can't see it?
ANGEL [half joking, half clueless]: Oh, well, I guess I can. But I may need a mirror.
[Angel's abrupt laughter fills the room.]
ANGEL (CONT'D): I also need to let you know that your first practice is tomorrow. Sunhye would literally kill me if I didn't. New trainees get assigned roles and songs and all that fun stuff, and then evaluations are in two weeks from now. And, oh, your bathroom is the first door in this hallway.
[Tracking shot of Angel's finger pointing to another door just outside of the room. Camera follows her finger as she angles it right.]
ANGEL (CONT'D): Storage room is the second one, so, y'know, don't mess that one up at 3AM! If you need any help or are curious about anything, don't hesitate to ask! That's what I'm here for.
[Angel stands up. She walks towards Vivian's doorway, but—]
VIVIAN: Uh, Angel?
ANGEL: Yes?
VIVIAN: Sorry if I was mean at first.
ANGEL: That's okay! You're all good!
VIVIAN: No, I take a long time to warm up. People don't like that about me.
ANGEL: Maybe I like it! You never know. We'll just have to see what the future brings!
NOTE: Angel's eyes are red-rimmed and glassy.
6. INT. VIVIAN'S ROOM – NIGHT
[Vivian on her new bed, dreaming.
Cut to: projection on a white wall. Screen is grainy and indistinguishable until approx. 7 seconds into the scene. Opens up to a café that Vivian used to frequent. Slow motion shot of her moving to sit at a booth. Reverberated voices all around her, but there are no patrons. In the centre of the table is a beating heart, a black fluid pooling under it with each constriction and release. Meaty tendrils begin emerging from the pulsating arteries. They squelch forward until they reach Vivian's hands.
Close-up: point-of-view shot. Vivian twitches. Unclear whether she cannot move or does not want to. Flesh sloughs off the tendrils at every movement. They trail that same black fluid up Vivian's wrists, up her arms. The stench is abhorrent, and Vivian chokes. Paler, fattier pieces detach further before clumping into a misshapen oval. Turns into one singular object. One singular, decapitated head. The tendrils hold Vivian's neck still as the head grows facial features.
It's a younger Angel, with lemon-bergamot cake smattered across her lips. She laughs.
warnings: slut-shaming, objectification, allusions to sexual abuse.
Haha, well! You know how girls are. Girls in their tight dresses or stockings or mini skirts or stilettos. Our girl isn't like that. She's got a one way ticket to seduction, sure, but she's not like that! She's different. Now are the days of raspberries and cream and cotton and roses, wouldn't you agree? Not that stuff you see on TV, those wriggling little worms. She's a princess in a castle. Innocence in promiscuity. Our girl is different from the other girls. Full of foam and bubbles and bread and frosted donuts.
Still not sold on her? Still doubt her? Still watching her with disdain? Oh, you poor thing. Poor, poor soul. Our girl can help with that. I must help you understand. She's so itty-bitty, you could just eat her up! Doesn't that make you feel good inside? Everyone wants a girl they can own. Why wouldn't you want her?
Maybe you're too good. Okay, okay, I got it. But she likes it, all right? Performing is her life. The thrill is completely undeniable. She'd rather die than forfeit a night of cameras and eyes. Eyes all on her as soon as the curtain rises. A girl with that much power over the audience is dangerous. For her to be held in the wrong arms, well… that wouldn't be so good. That's why you need her. You need this girl.
But oh, silly me, you haven't even seen her in action yet! My apologies. All this talk just to sell a product that might be broken. I assure you, she's not, but, well. You know. This business is hard on other girls. Not this girl, no, I'm just making a point. My time with this girl is over, but she's still valuable. See, see! Don't you see the ribbons wound around her ankles? The award-winning smile she flashes to the crowd? Look at her dance! That smile! As beautiful as an angel. Or a doll. What about the beauty of a mother's comforting grin? Angel-doll-mother? So many possibilities. She can be anything you want her to be, but an angel is so close to heaven it could make anyone weep.
Nobody can paint this picture. A unique specimen like her dare not be recreated in something so futile as pixels on a screen. You want the real thing, I know you do. Others do, too. Think about the revenue. Think about being the head of a grand table. Think about the empire you could construct. Give her the tools and she could build it for you. Our training regimen is strict, you know. She's got so many skills because of us. Hey, she could teach your girls a thing or two! Transaction to a trade. How incredible, huh? How one thing turns into something else? Perhaps it was always another thing masquerading as other things?
Just kidding. Our girl wears her heart on her sleeve. She is so happy all the time. So honest! You can ask her to change that, too, except she might forget after a while. Yes, a singular drawback. Don't back out now. Remember, anything you want her to be, she can be that. She won't even fight back when you remind her! Not a peep from her mouth! Quite handy, right? I made sure to really press that into her. Our girl is so smart. Girl of stardust and light and love and song.
Time's up! Wow, didn't it just fly by? You know what they say! Haha, yes. Oh, I'm so glad you're taking our girl under your wing. I know you'll take good care of her. She can take good care of you, too, if you let her. I'll still need compensation for my time, though. No, no, just mine. You'll never need to pay for service from our girl again.
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